


/JohnMark/ How to Memento Mori

by CLv_Minus36



Category: NCT, NCT127
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Awkward Sexual Situations, Dystopia, Evolution, Implied Sexual Content, Inspired by Neon Genesis Evangelion, M/M, Post-Nuclear War, Post-War, References to 2001: A Space Odyssey, The Matrix References, 有中文版
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:55:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29698131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CLv_Minus36/pseuds/CLv_Minus36
Summary: A brave new world, with goodly creatures and beauteous mankind, in which the future of humanity means digital cognition and a 100% personalised happy life lies in a hard drive. A story of an ordinary couple Mark and Johnny fighting for a better future, but only for one of them.
Relationships: Mark Lee/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Kudos: 9





	1. Johnny

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [【囧马】如何铭记死亡](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29130663) by [ConfidenceLevel_Minus36](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConfidenceLevel_Minus36/pseuds/ConfidenceLevel_Minus36). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm back! I have paused the other other on-going translations because I have shuffled between PhD application season and lab work as an RA which strained life out of me. The usual deal: translation from my own work, non-native English speaker, not beta-ed, and the wording (especially the TITLE, currently directly translated from the original) are subject to changes as we go but the plot is set. No actual explicit sexual contents will be in the story although in some parts it gets heat up (evil laughter).

_Uploaded is upgraded._

Johnny Suh always takes his time to read the slogan outside the Facility carefully every day he finishes work.

_Uploaded is upgraded._

He has suited up for the forecasted radiation shower in the evening. Where the helmet joins his collar bites into his sweat-covered neck. The inside feels muggy. His skin itchy. Somehow Johnny manages to resist scratching and actually starts heading home. Yet even left behind, the orange slogan keeps floating in front Johnny’s eyes, almost branded on his memory.

_Uploaded is upgraded._

At home, an eager Mark Lee is expecting him. Johnny mechanically moves his legs, but it is not just unfinished work that drags him into frustration. Work never finishes itself anyway. Today is the day for decision, which Mark has been waiting for. Despite being entitled as the best Mark’s mind reader in the world, Johnny cannot put his finger on Mark’s possible reaction. Still, he has a _plan_.

Mark apparently has been waiting for too long. Any extra second as Johnny peels the protective clothing off himself is visibly a torture. The younger dives into Johnny’s embrace when the latter is barely ready to catch him. This is the first stage of their family ritual: an excited Mark hangs onto Johnny’s neck while muttering today’s dinner specials. Johnny carefully holds Mark’s hip with one hand, the other steadying Mark’s prosthetic left leg.

As per detailed by Mark, today’s special for dinner is hot pockets. Although things they consume every day shall not be deemed “special”, Mark has made his effort for varieties. After all, Mark is a kitchen hazard and Johnny is too busy.

Following dinner comes TV. An ad for the _Upload Program_ awaits them. Johnny is still mentally battling how to spell out the news. Luckily, Mark hasn’t noticed his uneasiness, his eyes locked onto the screen.

“Uploaded is upgraded. The future of humanity is digital cognition!” The voice of broadcaster strikes on time, “The _Upload Program_ is funded and powered by the government. We only exploit the newest technology: safe, quick and absolutely pain-free! Personalised 100% happiness guaranteed!”

“Of course, where upload services are available, there will be download services. Your body will be maintained once the mind transcends, ready to be re-purposed any time. But I bet, life upgraded is so nice, no one would come back.”

Broadcasters’ laughter alerts Johnny. This is usually where the ad ends and he should be ready for the talk. Yet the ad continues.

“A special segment today, public for the first time, is a showcase of the life following the upload. Brought to you by our newest technology: what you see is what you have in mind, and what you will live in the upload world. A personalised brave new world, with goodly creatures and beauteous mankind[1]!”

It is new, even to the couple who knows the ad inside out thanks to Mark. Even Johnny subconsciously shifts closer towards the screen on the sofa. The fawning faces are quickly replaced by the unforeseen _Brave New World_ ——

Which is nothing.

Blankness fills Johnny’s mind as it fills the TV screen. Johnny blinks a couple of times as he takes a deep breath. Still nothing. Maybe he is just too tired, Johnny silently comments. But the realisation still strikes him for a good moment that he doesn’t know what he wants for a happy life, with Mark, beyond what he currently has. At least the ad was telling the truth, what Johnny sees is what he thinks of. Void.

Johnny cannot help but secretly shift his attention to Mark. To not give away his confusion, he stays still. So does Mark, whose expression is unreadable until a devout, almost to the point of despair, cry leaves him.

“Oh!!”

It startles Johnny. He turns to Mark completely to check on him. Obviously, Mark _sees_. However, Mark falls back into the scary silence after the wail. His tremble remains, invigorated, practically shaking tears out of the rim of his eyes. Mark is crying, despite an utmost attempt to stay quiet. Whatever he sees, like the moon pulling the sea, raises up huge waves of emotions. Surges of feeling jostle and tumble inside Mark’s tiny body until they break free from Mark’s eyes. Yet only one single drop of tear is enough to break Johnny’s heart.

 _What do you see in the digital Eden, love?_ Johnny wonders as he glimpses the screen again, almost resentfully. The white empty screen patiently stares back. Johnny deflates. He attends to the still weeping Mark, or rather, an empty shell left behind which bluntly reacts to Mark’s soul embracing happiness. Johnny holds Mark tight as he wipes Mark’s seemingly never-ending tears, as if he would lose the love of his life forever if he doesn’t clench him.

Finally, the maddening whiteness on the screen disappears. Johnny fetches a cup of water for Mark who almost cried his eyes out. Mark gasps when he eventually wakes up from his digital utopia. Still baffled by the aftertaste, Mark frowns at Johnny, who seems offensively untouched by the new life.

“Hyung, what did you see?”

“I, I saw you.” Johnny tries to smile. He might have failed but the words still work. Mark visibly relaxes and melts between Johnny’s arm. He starts to talk about crumbs of the sweet life he saw while randomly switching channels on TV. Mostly being a life before the nuclear war, or a life never encountering that war. The War happened when Mark was still young. In fact, he barely remembers what it was like to be on an unpolluted Earth, no need for protection or salvation. But that’s exactly what he has wanted.

Johnny listens and his question blurts out, “did you see me?”

“Oh, yes, yes, of course. I saw you. Yes. Everything was for the two of us.” Mark confesses, almost too good to be true. Johnny’s interruption explodes like a relationship underminer and Mark will never allow it. He climbs up onto Johnny’s lap and decides to answer by actions. A peck on Mark’s cheek serves Johnny the taste of Mark’s tear. He vaguely remembers tears from different moods vary in taste. He hopes today it tastes like Mark’s ultimate happiness.

_I am happy as long as he is happy._

Johnny locks Mark in his embrace, asking for more. No baby steps are ever considered in the case of their intimacy. Mark rests the crown of his head against Johnny’s shoulder. He breathes out a love-sick whisper, “I miss you”.

Yet Johnny’s attention wanders. He notices the clock. The special segment only lasted for a couple of minutes but it feels like two hours to him. As for Mark, he might have spent two days or two years in the incorporeal world.

_What exactly did he see? What exactly should I have seen?_

Mark’s gentle bites around his jaw pulls his thoughts back. “Are you still thinking of the Mark uploaded? Or the Mark upgraded?” He asks. A flush of desire rises on Mark’s cheeks. Mark is not shy of sex but he likes to play shy. With the innocent eyes of his locking on Johnny’s face, he grinds on his boyfriend in an attempt to chisel a reply. Their hard-ons collide. Mark gets impatient quickly, but his hasty movement draws the friction overboard to the territory of unnecessary pain. They both hiss and Johnny takes over. His hands wander, feeling the burning sense of longing radiating from Mark’s body. Oh, he loves the muscles on Mark’s thighs.

Johnny is determined to leave hickeys and marks, as the Mark, panting on top of him and longing for more physical contacts, is the real and only Mark.

Touchable. Affable. Loveable.

“It’s always you. It’s only you. There is only one Mark, my Mark.” Johnny replies. He never lies to Mark and he wishes that Mark has done the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Shakespeare _The Tempest_
> 
> What's Johnny's news and what's his plan? Hmm, guess soon we will find out. I do love this story very much so I am starting it in the middle of chaos at work. The footnotes are a ritual of my original works in Mandarin, including sources of quotes, some designs and some information on background. e.g. in the original version, there was also the actual scientific reference for the changing taste of tears. What do you guys think? Shall I incorporate them here?


	2. Cherry Bomb

Mark Lee walks alone in the dark. He has no sense of time, nor any idea of his destination. _Walking._ The mere idea strikes him dumb, yet the alternating swinging of his two legs keeps him wending his way. When was the last time he walked like a physically sound human, Mark wonders.

To the thought, he halts. His body loyally comes to a stop. The endless darkness around grants no proper vision, so Mark decides to put his sense of touch to good use. On the left starting from the thigh, Mark’s fingers trail down. _Quadriceps._ The lower his fingers travel, the more anxiety creeps up on him. _The knee._ A couple of deep breaths encouraged Mark to keep going. _Tibia and calf._ Instead of an installed prosthesis, Mark has a natural human leg. Dumbfounded, Mark kneels down and rolls up his pant leg. Pale skin lacking of sunkiss rests underneath the fabric.

Mark slowly stands up. He carefully stamps his left foot several times. Feelings of stepping on the ground shoot through his nerve like how it normally would so he does again, harder. Then even harder. A string of awkward laughters flutters away from Mark as the limb falls asleep. It feels so _real_. Mark wills his left leg to step out, following by the right, then the left again. He begins to move quicker and with every steady step, the world around him brightens up bits by bits. Soon Mark finds himself running. From the corner of his eyes, he catches glimpses of an unpolluted sky and crowds without protection against radiation. Wind sends boisterous chatters to his ears and cold fresh air rushes into his lungs. Mark is still laughing as he runs: _Oh wonder! How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, that has such people in it[1]!_

Mark Lee cannot be happier.

He darts through the splendid scene of a world without the nuclear war. Nobody sees him, talks to him or touches him. Yet Mark _knows_ that he belongs here.

This could have been his life, healthy and sound under no one’s sanctuary. Mark confesses with grief.

The grief immediately concretes and ripples through space like a wave and everything touched by its expansion is forced static. All movements frozen and all life fixed, like unpowered wind-up toys. A yell of shock is squeezed out from Mark’s throat as he shrinks, desperately holding onto his long-lost precious left leg for dear life. Fortunately, the leg is still there. The world around begins to rewind, slowly at first, then so quickly that strong currents push Mark _back_.

Into the past.

An adult Mark, with a functional left leg, lands himself on the desk in his childhood bedroom. Everything seems like then. A giant French window faces him and bright blue sky awaits outside. Mark as a child dreamed to be in the air force. Surrounding Mark are various models of fighter aircrafts. Mark _wanted_ to fly. Yet that’s a long-lost dream, hazing over, too wild for the cruel reality. Like Mark’s left leg, his family and everything.

Mark always thought he forgot about it all. But it turns out the memory is crystal clear, patiently waiting at the back of his head waiting for a moment to cut through his mind like a sharp knife. Now comes the said moment as Mark mentally relives the blood and tears: In no more than three minutes, sirens will go off as the war begins. Mom will dash out from the kitchen, grabbing preparedness kit with and hand and young Mark in the other. The fighter jets will arrive in approximately two hours and raze the city to the ground, by which time they will lost contacts with Dad. The silhouette of Mom will soon die away as well in the midst of explosions, cries and alarms. Left alone and trapped, lying a weak and injured Mark. Three days, which is what grown-up Mark has been told, of no supply or any sense of days and nights. Feelings in Mark’s left leg will gradually retreat and get replaced by pain, consciousness following. Yet young Mark will stay awake for the grand finale: one heroic soldier Johnny Suh digs him out from the ruins.

Mark is never tired of his life with Johnny. But one of the biggest reasons that pushes him into compliance, besides Johnny himself, is the fact that he has no other choice. It is obviously easy to vent all his anger upon Johnny, who’s the only person he still knows, dead or alive, from the war. Everything between him and Johnny is inevitably related to the war. But Marks hates it that way. One grain of sand falling from the hourglass of fate weighs like a mountain to him, and he can’t help but speculate it’s out of guilt more than love that Johnny wants to share the load. Mark fears that he does not deserve Johnny. He is useless and physically incomplete. Mark believes that should it have been someone else substituting him in the story, Johnny will do the same without hesitation.

Yet at the same time, Mark is proud of Johnny. So much so that he can squander it with no second thought. Even in the world uploaded, they can still be happy ever after——

If there hasn’t been a war, he won’t have met Johnny. You can’t have your cake and eat it. A contradiction is a make-a-wish nightmare.

But this _is_ the world uploaded, Mark thinks to himself. Should things start again, wouldn’t it be different because of his effort of will?

He patiently waits for three minutes and hears no raging alarms. Instead, rises from the living room is some slow classical music. Nobody is taking Mark away from his dream. Mark jumps off the desk and stretches. He grabs his desk clock and casually puts the hour hand two digits forward. Soon whistling fighter jets show up outside the French window. _So annoyingly loud_ , Mark comments and the aircrafts are conveniently muted. Falling from them are no bomb but giant cherries, which explode into pops of scarlet cherry juice.

Mark opens the French window and enjoys the view. Oh how much he wants to fly. So Mark jumps. A cherry pops right above him and the tsunami of cherry juice swallows him. Mark tries to breathe, only to inhale sweetness. He doesn’t feel suffocated, just the sense of gravity rapidly pulling him down.

Mark falls back into his earthly body. He has waken up from the wide dream in the digital world. The ad on TV has ended for god-knows-how-long. Perceptions are recovering and then he realises he had been crying. Tears washed away his resentment against the war, the regret of not seeing Johnny _there_ remains. Mark mentally comforts himself that since everything else worked at his conveniences, there will be a way eventually.

Johnny seems equally absent-minded. The possibility of Johnny forgetting him in the digital daydream vexes Mark. To fight against it Mark climb up onto Johnny’s lap. He whispers “I miss you”, half a reminder to Johnny and half to convince himself.

Even in the world without a war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's what Mark _sees_.


	3. Mark

Practice makes perfect, especially when it comes to sex. Even when Johnny’s mind is a worrying mess, his body still dutifully responds to basic satisfaction. The chase after swift and superficial pleasures is a primitive instinct of humanity.

The ebb of desire leaves Johnny covered in hazy aftertastes. It’s still early for the shower supply scheduled for tonight. Johnny stays in bed, lying side by side next to Mark. He feels how the sheet is glued to his exposed sweaty skin and hopes time can pass a little bit faster. Mark is also suffering from the steamy hot air. His body sinks into the mattress away from Johnny’s body heat. Yet reluctant to give up the intimacy, he leaves his right leg layering on top of Johnny’s stomach, which rises and falls as Johnny’s breath steadies.

Johnny continues his train of thoughts, caressing Mark’s cuff as he does. The circling motion of his fingers rubs out a soft snore from Mark. Mark appears to be dozing off, head nuzzling the pillows for a comfortable shade. Johnny almost believes he is asleep until Mark retrieves his leg. He curls himself up away from Johnny. His back exposes, glittering with sweat. Mark asks, finally, about how things went with the upload program. 

“We got it.” Johnny stares as the ceiling. He dares not look at Mark. The news up his sleeves is definitely not what Mark would like.

“Yeah?”

“But the quota is for one.”

“Why?”

Johnny doesn’t answer. There must have been a reason and it is very likely that Johnny know, Mark thinks to himself. He doesn’t move and neither does Johnny, both pinned down by the silence. They are forced into a competition to see who can first scrape together some reasoning to make the situation acceptable. Mark’s patience runs out first a couple minutes later. He asks, “so what we gonna do?”

“It’s what _you_ ’ve been waiting for, right?” Johnny throws the question back. His overtone does not go unnoticed.

“But what about hyung?”

“All I want is for you to be happy.” Johnny replies.

“That’s unfair.” Mark complains. The conversation stops again, as both of them try to contain their sighs. It is the alarm of shower supply that saves them from the increasingly curious atmosphere. They proceed to shower. When the couple rejoins each other on the sofa with refreshment, Johnny announces that he has a plan.

Sortition grants fairness, he claims, red is upload and blue is stay. Mark nods as an agreement.

By sortition, Johnny means the lots he quickly made when Mark was taking the shower. Clenched in Johnny’s fist, two pieces of cardboard are entrusted to resign their fate. The burden of choice falls on Mark’s shoulder. He pans his eyes between the two extending ends in Johnny’s hand, then Johnny who has been patiently waiting. He always waits for Mark. Mark shuts his eyes tight and chooses the one in his easy reach with resoluteness. Each with one lot in their hands, Johnny and Mark are ready to greet the grand reveal.

“Mark.” Johnny softly whispers, appealed to which Mark gently releases his grip.

Red.

“Hyung, I, this is—“ Mark blurts out broken pieces of words. He’s crying again, feeling dizzy after too many tears shed for one night.

“Congrats, Markie.” Johnny says. He stuffs his own lot into his pocket to spare his arms to give his lucky boy an embrace.

The next day finds the two of them together in the Facility. Physical examination is compulsory for all upload candidates to determine whether extra body preservative measures are required for certain health conditions. They even get a discounted quote for insiders: Johnny works here since his discharge, just not in the core or public service facility.

Mark ends up with his upload schedule and serial number. The one that distributes the credentials is no stranger, Qian Kun from the maintenance department. Actually, he _runs_ the whole digital cognition maintenance department. It surprises Johnny to see him do the miscellanies. Kun simply explains that they are short of operatives since the upload channel opens for Facility staff.

“Didn’t you just get yours a couple of days ago? I am actually expecting you to drop by for the technicalities.” Kun swallows back his chatter to the sight of an uneasy Mark hiding behind Johnny’s broad figure. He changes the topic swiftly, “and who is this lovely cupcake?”

“Mark. My boyfriend. He’s in line for upload soon.” Johnny answers without missing a knowing glance from Kun.

The couple quickly bids goodbye and part ways from Kun who is snowed under work. Mark is unusually quiet on the way home, a polar opposite of the Mark who couldn’t bite back his babble of excitement when they departed in the morning. He wanted a life in the uploaded world and he got it. By practically snatching it from Johnny. They are nothing close to the cream of society who is gifted free quota by the government, nor can they afford publicly available seats. The “fair” chance they competed by sortition is Johnny’s staff allowance. But, Mark thinks as he besieges himself in internal debates, Johnny offered to draw lots before he even asked and drawing lots _is_ fair. Johnny _wants_ him to be happy. Mark glances at the man next to him. Accompanying him along the commute is a seemingly unbothered Johnny. Johnny wouldn’t mind, Mark reassures himself.

Johnny doesn’t mind. One glimpse at Mark’s changing expression provides Johnny what he’s thinking. Being with Johnny does not suffice Mark’s definition of happiness. Their current life to Mark can never replace his longing for the uploaded world, not even close to a level of prominence to give Mark any second thought. Johnny knew it all along, thus he had a plan, in which Mark didn’t have a choice.

The day of Mark’s upload finds him settled in a storing chamber, hands clasping the red cardboard lot in a praying gesture. The Facility promises to keep Mark’s body for a while such that he can come back if he wants to. It’s half of a comfort for Johnny. At least, not everything of Mark will be taken away from him. He has Mark’s body to sustain his emotional sustenance, despite the foreseeable difficulty to fight for jurisdictions from upper authority.

“Wait for me. I will be back.” Mark promises. In the background, the broadcast announces the last five minutes before upload begins. Johnny knows it’s a lie, not that Mark realises it himself, but Johnny smiles and promises that he will be waiting, for however long it takes for Mark to return.

Kun drops by for a final check. He reassures Mark it will feel like a deep sleep, and a brave new world awaits him on the other side of slumber.

“I will stay till you are asleep.” He says after giving Mark one last good night kiss.

“I love you.” Mark says. As part of their night ritual, Johnny bids the love of his life an eternal sweet dream. Mark prays, not for himself but for Johnny because he needs God no more. Satisfied, Mark lets himself fall into the golden slumber he has long anticipated.

Johnny stilly watches as the door of the storing chamber partitions Mark off him and the rest of physical reality. He cannot afford smiling any more. The monitoring system says Mark, with his heart and breath slowed, has reached the transfer process.

Johnny stands there for what he perceives as eternity, until Kun gently tabs on his shoulder asking him to leave. Johnny dumbly follows. His trance suddenly snaps off as he steps out the room containing Mark. He takes out his own lot from the back of his staff access. He prays with the little piece of cardboard clutched in hand, like Mark. After three sighs, he buries his face into his palm and starts to cry. The lot falls through his trembling fingers onto the floor. Johnny kneels and stares before he eventually picks it up.

His lot is also red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't fair. To Mark and to Johnny.


End file.
